


The Games We Play

by sbdrag



Series: Medicine and Lies [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbdrag/pseuds/sbdrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to "The Delicate Nature of Attraction" with scenes in the story from Julian's POV.</p><p>AKA, 5 times Julian thought "kiss me" in regards to Garak, and one time he realized he didn't have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

> So the first scene is after "Cardassians" but before "The Wire", the second scene is the last scene of "The Wire", the scene after takes place shortly after "Hippocratic Oath", and the rest are in or referenced to in my other fic, "The Delicate Nature of Attraction".
> 
> Also, Cardassian biology borrowed from tinsnip!

“And what about you, doctor? How is the Bashir family?”

 

Julian licked his lips, gaze going immediately to his food. He shoves a bite in his mouth, taste going sour as he thinks of his family. “They’re fine.”

 

They’d been discussing Cardassian literature, a repetitive epic about loyalty to the state that had turned into a conversation about family. Garak had expounded on the importance Cardassians placed on family. Julian had liked watching the way the tailor became animated when speaking of his people, and he supposed it was only natural that the man would ask him about his family eventually, but it didn’t make him want to talk about it any more or less than if he hadn’t.

 

Garak’s eyeridges rose. “Fine? That’s all?”

 

Julian sighed. He looked up, meeting the curious gaze. “We aren’t close.”

 

“How unfortunate. As I have just regaled you, family is a very important concept to Cardassians. Tell me, if I’m not overstepping my bounds, why  _ aren’t _ you… close?”

 

The doctor frowned, focusing on his meal again. He stared at it, but couldn’t bring himself to eat anymore. “We just don’t get on, is all.”

 

“Don’t ‘get on’?” Garak watched, head tilted forward. He believes this may be the first time he has witnessed the doctor lose his appetite.

 

“Human expression. It means we don’t get along.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Julian sighed again. He bit his cheek, debating what he should say. _Because my father decided that having a smart son was more important than basic human decency, not to mention the_ ** _law_** was definitely out. If he lied, though, Garak would know, and want to find out the truth - and Julian was afraid he really _would_ find it. There was also the option of simply saying he didn’t want to talk about it - which was true - but he knew that would put distance between them. And he _liked_ Garak, liked talking to the man and the mental acrobatics of discussion he was put through. No one else challenged him in quite the same way, and he didn’t want to throw up any walls he didn’t have to. Besides, Garak threw enough walls up for the both of them.

 

He looked up again. “My father… he was just more interested in what  _ he _ wanted me to be than what I wanted, is all. Nothing but the best, of course, but…” The doctor waved a hand vaguely.

 

“But not what you wanted.” Garak tilted his head, considering. “Yes, I once had a friend on Cardassia with the same problem, a most lamentable situation.”

 

“That he couldn’t live up to his parent’s expectations?” Julian regrets how bitter it sounds the moment he’s said it.

 

Garak smiles pleasantly, however, as if the vitriol had been absent. “She, actually - and I meant that her parents did not live up to  _ her  _ expectations.”

 

“I… what?” The doctor can feel his brows furrow, and leans forward in surprise.

 

Garak very deliberately goes back to his own food, taking a bite before answering. “Would you not agree, doctor, that the main job of a parent is to support their children?”

 

“I suppose so, yes.”

 

“And, as a child, did you not have the expectation that your parents would support you? Did they not say some human platitude about how ‘you can be whatever you want to be’?”

 

Julian frowned, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I… I mean, every parent says that - or at least every parent  _ should. _ ”

 

Garak smiled, but it seemed somehow sad. “Ever the idealist, doctor. In any case, by pushing their desires upon you - ignoring or belittling your own desires - did they not make such a statement a hypocrisy?” 

 

Julian blinked. “I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”

 

Garak sighed in a way that suggested he felt put upon. “To say you can be whatever you want, but then only  _ approve _ of certain options, have they not failed your expectation to support you?”

 

_ Kiss me. _

 

Julian is surprised at the thought that flits across his mind, quick as an eye blink. He hadn’t considered Garak in a romantic way before, and he wasn’t sure he did now - it was simply the first time anyone had taken his side. Not to say others jumped to defend his parents, but he usually was asked if it was such a bad thing that his parents wanted the best for him, or that he would understand when he was a parent. Hearing someone so clearly state that his parents  _ had _ failed him, without malice or otherwise ill intent, was… well, he’d probably want to kiss anyone who took his side over Richard Bashir - even Gul Dukat. (Alright, maybe not Gul Dukat, but the sentiment was still there.)

 

The doctor smiled, sitting forward and picking up his utensils to finish his meal. “I suppose you have a point, Garak.”

 

The tailor hummed. “I usually do.”

 

* * *

 

 

Julian sat in the Replimat, twisting his fork around in his fingers, mulling over the past ten days. Garak was in the infirmary, recovering from the surgery he’d had to perform to repair the damage done by the implant. His - friend? Were they still friends, could they still be friends after this? The doctor wasn’t sure. After Garak’s outburst, and going to see Tain, he was a lot less sure of a lot of things - mainly Garak. 

 

“May I join you?”

 

Julian had started looking up when the tray of food had entered his vision, but it was the voice he recognized.

 

“Garak.”  _ Oh so eloquent as always, Julian. _

 

“Thank you.” The tailor took to seat across from him as if the doctor really had remembered his manners enough to say yes.

 

Julian was angry. He glared. He was hurt. Logically, he understood that Garak had lashed out in pain, but he also knew that he’d  _ meant _ it. And besides that, here was the Cardassian he had worked so hard to save risking his health yet again. “What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

 

“ _ Out  _ of the question - I couldn’t stand being cooped up in that  _ dreadful _ infirmary for another second. Besides, I feel perfectly fine.” The tailor leaned back, smiling and bluffing at being relaxed. “So, how’s the Idanian spiced pudding today?”

 

Julian had to do a double take. “How’s the spiced pudding?” He honestly could not believe what he was hearing. And that unfappable smile, as if nothing had happened between them - as if Garak hadn’t lashed out both verbally and physically. As if he hadn’t asked Julian for absolution on what could have been his deathbed.  “Is that all you have to say for yourself? How can you just sit there and just pretend the last ten days never happened?”  _ I know I can’t forget them. _

 

“I, for one, doctor, am perfectly satisfied with the ways things turned out. And I see no need to dwell on what was doubtlessly a difficult time for both of us.”

 

Julian picked up his tea. Doubtlessly was certainly the right word there. He took a drink, not trusting himself not to snap at the tailor again. Why did Garak always make things so… difficult?

 

“By the way, I just had the most interesting conversation with Constable Odo. It seems he’s under the impression that I was a member of the Obsidian Order.”

 

Julian has to fight back a smile at the clear incredulity in the Cardassian’s voice.  _ Yes, confessing to  being a member of the Obsidian Order does tend to make people think you are a member of the Obsidian Order, Garak. _ But he doesn’t say that, because that would give the game away - besides, he knows the Cardassian would just deny it. “What did you tell him?”

 

“That he was mistaken, of course.” Garak smiles.

 

Julian knows he’s lost the battle not to mirror the expression. It felt so natural - like any of their other lunch conversations. And Julian had missed that.  _ Damn the man, but he is charming when he wants to be. _ “And he believed you?”

 

“Well, he said something about keeping a closer eye on me in the future. I told him ‘Be my guest, I have nothing to hide’.” Garak’s smile falters, just a little bit - tension in his mouth as he watches Julian. 

 

_ He’s apologizing _ . The thought strikes the doctor suddenly.  _ He came out here to apologize - in his own way. _

 

“Here. I brought you something.” Garak brings out an isolinear rod, handing it over to the doctor.

 

Julian takes it, examining it as he lets his realization sink in. “What is it?”

 

“ _ Meditations on a Crimson Shadow _ by Preloc.”

 

The doctor smiles a bit, remembering - not the conversation they’d had on  _ The Never Ending Sacrifice _ \- but an earlier conversation over a similar book. He suspects Garak did it on purpose. “More Cardassian literature?”

 

Garak leans closer, as if sharing a secret. “I think you’ll find this one more to your tastes - it takes place in the future, during a time when Cardassia and the Klingon Empire are at war.”

 

“Who wins?”

 

Garak’s eye ridges raise briefly. “Who do you think?”

 

_ Cardassia, of course. _ “Nevermind, don’t tell me - I don’t want you to spoil the ending.” He wants to keep being angry, but he fears that it’s a lost cause.

 

Especially when Garak chuckles, leaning back. Julian’s not sure he’s ever heard the man laugh - at least not with such genuine amusement. 

 

The doctor sighed, setting the rod aside. He looked at Garak. “You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past.”

 

“I have given you all the answers I am capable of.” Judging by the smile, the Cardassian is likely aware of his inability to remain cross.

 

“You’ve given me answers, all right - but they were all different.” And he knows he’s already lost. If he could forgive Garak for his past misdeeds, having enough information to know what they were, he’s sure he can probably forgive him for just about anything. “What I want to know is out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren’t.”

 

“My dear doctor, they’re all true.” And the way Garak says it, the teasing in his voice, the way he smiles… 

 

Julian sighed.  _ I forgive you. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. _ “Even the lies?”

 

Garak’s expression never changes, but his eyes seem to dance with added mischief. “Especially the lies.”

 

_ Kiss me. _ Julian shakes his head, smiling. It’s a silly thought, but the impulse is there. He’s still hurt, and he isn’t going to act on it anytime soon, but maybe… maybe he will later, when the wound isn’t a fresh. Until then… well, they still had their lunches.

 

* * *

 

He’s drunk.  _ Damn the Jem’Hadar. Damn soldiers and commands. Damn… _ he can’t think of what else to curse, so he drains the drink in front of him without tasting a thing. 

 

Julian and Miles had returned from a mission in the Gamma Quadrant. They’d crash landed on a planet, and been kidnapped by Jem’Hadar who wanted to be free of Ketracel White.  _ And you couldn’t save a single bloody one of them, could you? Genetically engineered brain and you couldn’t even stop a man from running back to his death out of some sense of soldierly honor Miles had tried to explain to you.  _

 

“Garak! Glad you’re here.” Quark’s voice was irritating. 

 

_ That was unkind, but I’m drunk and not in a kind mood. _

 

“Yes, I can see why.” The Cardassian’s voice is familiar, oddly comforting. 

 

Julian looks up, head feeling much heavier than it should. It takes a minute for his vision to focus on the tailor, made even more difficult by the man approaching him instead of staying still.

 

“Good evening, my dear doctor. It seems you have given me an opportunity to repay your kindness when I found  _ myself _ in this situation - most generous of you, though I hope you do not have an underlying malady that needs taken care of.”

 

Julian grunts. “Cause yournah a me’cal profeshnal?”

 

Garak raised his eye ridges at the slurring, but doesn’t mention it as he slips an arm around the doctor’s waist and practically picks him up while pulling him off the chair. “Come along, doctor, I think it’s time you returned to your quarters.”

 

Julian blinked, trying to clear his swimming vision and leaning into the solid Cardassian body heavily. He knew Garak was strong, but it still surprised him whenever he experienced that strength first hand. The tailor was very good at his unassuming facade. “Yesh, good idea.”

 

“I thought so. Quark.” Garak nodded to the Ferengi before towing Julian out of the room. 

 

The doctor tries to get his feet under him, but mostly lets himself be pulled along. All his limbs felt heavy and clumsy, his head somehow a step behind the rest of him. “Why you?”

 

“Pardon?” Garak doesn’t seemed bothered by basically carrying the doctor through the empty Promenade, though he is paying more attention to the path ahead than his drunken companion.

 

“Why’d Quark call you?” Julian tried making the fuzzy thoughts more clear. He isn’t sure why this seems important at the moment, 

 

“In case you have forgotten, my dear, Leeta is visiting her family on Bajor and your friend Chief O’Brien is on duty. Which left me to come and collect you.”

 

Julian nodded, then regretted the motion and closed his eyes, willing the nausea the sensation caused to go away. They made their way to the habitat ring in relative silence, Julian only gaining the wherewithal to speak again when they were outside his quarters.

 

“Sorry.” 

 

“It’s quite alright - as I said, it gives me the opportunity to repay a debt.” The Cardassian maneuvered them inside the doctor’s quarters, calling for lights. “My only concern is what drove you to such depths to begin with.”

 

“Jem’Hadar.” Julian felt a mirthless chuckle bubble out of his lips, like a boiling pot spilling over. 

 

Garak’s eye ridges rose. “That  _ is _ concerning. Watch your step, doctor.” 

 

Julian stumbled into a chair anyways, but Garak helped him extricate himself.  _ When had that gotten there?  _ “On a planet. We crashed annnd there’ere Jem’Hadar.”

 

“I’d heard about that. Here were are, sit down.” Garak set him on his bed, then went to get something else.

 

Julian flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling with arms outspread. “Liar. You broke into the logsh, didn’ you?”

 

Garak sighed, coming back and setting a folded pair of pyjamas next to the doctor. “Doctor, you couldn’t have saved them.”

 

An admission, but it wasn’t as if Julian hadn’t expected as much. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking the light. “I could’ve, maybe. If…”

 

“If Chief O’Brien hadn’t shot the machine and saved your life? No, my dear, there was simply not enough time.” Gentle hands began unzipping Julian’s rumpled uniform, working quickly and efficiently. “Come on, you don’t want to sleep in this, do you?”

 

Julian whined in complaint, but forced himself to sit up. He was sure he looked a proper mess - hair and uniform disheveled, eyes red and stinging. He tried to help Garak with the uniform, but his clumsy hands were soon batted away by the sure Cardassian ones. “Thanks.”

 

“For what? For all you know, I am making a recording of this to make it seem like you are in a compromising position to blackmail you later.” Garak pushed the top of the uniform over the doctor’s shoulders, tugging it down to his waist. 

 

Julian snorted. He managed to pull his arms through his sleeves on his own, and soon found his undershirt being pulled over his head. 

 

“Here - I trust I can leave the rest to you?” Garak handed him the pyjama top, giving him a pointed look. 

 

Julian nodded, pulling the top over his head. He fumbles with the arms, but manages to put it on in one piece. “Would you get me shome water?”

 

“A sensible idea. I’ll be right back.” The tailor disappeared into the main room.

 

Julian sighed, running his hands over his face. For a few moments, he didn’t move. Then he sighed again, and started to pull his uniform down off his legs. The pant legs caught on his shoes, and the doctor spent several minutes remembering how to take the blasted things off before he could kick the uniform onto the floor. Then he nearly fell over pulling on the pyjama pants, but managed to sit on the bed instead. Huffing, he crawled to the head of the bed, pulling the covers up and staring at the ceiling for a while, nearly dozing off before he remembered his last request. “Garak!”

 

“Your water, doctor.” The tailor was at his side as if by magic, a glass of water in his hands. He made Julian sit up before handing it over, however. “I trust you intend to sleep for what little remains of the night?”

 

Julian nods, spilling some of the water from the glass. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, and he doesn’t finish the drink before handing it back to the Cardassian. He smiled at the tailor. “No adventuresh to Bashore tonight.”

 

Garak smiled, setting the glass aside and gently making Julian lay down. “No, my dear - perhaps another time.”

 

Julian nods, already half asleep as he snuggles into the pillow. He looks up to see Garak hovering over him, making sure he really is alright.

 

_ Kiss me. _ Julian isn’t sure if he says it or merely thinks it, but he thinks he meant to say it. By the time that thought is finished, he’s passed out entirely.

 

The doctor wakes the next day with a splitting headache and only a vague memory of his he got back to his quarters, but is grateful to find a half-full glass of water next to his bed.

 

* * *

 

_ Kiss me. _

 

Ever since he broke it off with Leeta and tried to woo Garak, it’s been the first thing he thinks almost every time he sees the Cardassian tailor. 

 

“Garak! To what do I owe the surprise?” Julian smiled, stepping around the examination table and leaving Molly O’Brien in the care of one of his nurses. 

 

Garak smiled, but it was clear in the way that he kept glancing around that he was uncomfortable. “Why does one generally come to an infirmary, my dear  _ doctor _ ?”

 

Julian smiled at the jibe, but had a sudden surge of concern. “Are you ill, then?”

 

Garak held up his hands. “Nothing to get so concerned about, my dear. I simply seem to have caught a case of the Bajoran flu.”

 

Julian tutted, moving around the infirmary to get a tricorder to confirm the self-diagnosis. “My, if only there was a vaccine. Then you would never have to experience any symptoms in the first place.”

 

Garak’s eye ridges rose. “Doctor, I do believe your bedside manner leaves something to be desired.”

 

“Only when it comes to you, Garak.” Julian shook his head at the readings, then turned back to get a hypo. “You don’t have the Bajoran flu - in fact, you’re perfectly healthy. A far as I can tell, anyways.”

 

“Well then, seeing as I overreacted to what must have simply been stress, I’ll just-”

 

“Not so fast. Since you’re here and I doubt I’ll be able to get you in later, I’ll give you the vaccine.”

 

Garak sighed, but obediently remained where he was. “Very well, if you  _ insist _ .”

 

Julian smiled, stepping a bit closer than strictly necessary to administer the hypo, pressing it gently to the Cardassian’s neck. “I always insist, that doesn’t stop you from refusing. If you didn’t make up excuses to come here, I’d have to start making house calls.”

 

“That seems a bit extreme for one patient.” Garak rubs the spot on his neck, playing up a wince. “And I never make up excuses, my dear - I honestly believed I had caught the flu.”

 

Julian isn’t fooled, and he doesn’t move back as quickly as he should. He lingers just inside the tailor’s personal space, not so close to be inappropriate, just closer than would be polite. He didn’t bother to ask what symptoms Garak had experienced - he was sure the Cardassian had them all memorized. “Then I suppose I should be glad that not all my patients are as obstinate as you.” 

 

“Obstinate? Really, doctor, just because I happen to have a busy schedule-”

 

“The infirmary is open at all hours, Garak. You’ll have to do better than  _ that _ .”

 

Garak fixed him with a pointed look. “Yes, I’m sure the lone Cardassian on the station coming into the infirmary in the middle of the night would seem perfectly normal. No, I do not believe that wise. The infirmary may be open at all hours, but you, my dear, are not always in it.”

 

_ Kiss me _ .

 

He knows that Garak won’t - not here, in front of other people. At least, not the first time, if he’s ever going to do it. It doesn’t stop the thought from springing to his mind at the words that betray much more affection than is probably meant; Julian trusts Garak, his nurses do not. It’s simple. But still…

 

“Doctor Bashir, that culture study you were running had finished.” One of his nurses brings him a padd, smiling politely at Garak before going back to her work.

 

“Thank you.” 

 

“Well then, I shall let you get back to work. Lunch today?”

 

Julian smiles. “Wouldn’t miss is for the world.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, it looks like all the bets are against Doctor Bashir.” Quark shook his head, looking at a padd.

 

Julian paused, just outside the range a normal human should be able to hear. He’d had to turn back in the Promenade after realizing he’d forgotten a padd at the bar. He’d been monitoring some scans while he and Miles had been playing darts, and they’d finished during the course of the game. Hearing his name, however, the doctor crept forward more cautiously.

 

“Well, uh, you still have the commission fees, brother.” Rom’s voice as distinct, and carried.

 

Quark snorted. “Yeah, but if no one bets on Bashir kissing Garak first we’ll miss out on most of the profits.”

 

Julian felt his brows rise at that.  _ When had this started?  _ He stayed just to the side of the window open to the Promenade, peeking around the corner to look inside.

 

“Buuut with all the betting going on, you’re making more in commissions than you ever had before.” Rom was in the main area of the bar, leaning over the actual bar a he spoke.

 

Quark was behind the bar, checking things on a padd. “Yeah, but if one of them doesn’t kiss the other soon, Garak is going to find out - and I don’t think he’ll be happy about it.”

 

Rom looked down, then back up. “What if Doctor Bashir finds out?”

 

_ A perfect opening, if I do say so myself. _ Julian stepped around, leaning on the bar. “Yes, what  _ if _ Doctor Bashir finds out?”

 

Quark flinched back, back bumping into the bar. He glanced to the side, fingers nervously tapping up and down the padd. “I don’t know, what if Doctor Bashir finds out?”

 

Julian let him squirm for a minute, rather enjoying the deer in the headlights look. Then he smiled, straigtening up and folding his arms across his chest. “I think he’d like to make a bet.”

 

Quark narrowed his eyes at the human, then slowly stepped forward. “You want to make a bet? On yourelf?”

 

Julian arched a brow. “I thought you liked knowing the outcome of bets in advanced.”

 

The Ferengi pursed his lips, then nodded, handing over the padd. “Alright. So, what’s the bet?”

 

“That Garak-” Julian made his bet, then handed the padd back. “-will kiss me first.”

 

“You’re betting against yourelf?”

 

“On the contrary.” Julian smiled, walking around and going into the bar. He found his padd on a table, right where he’d left it - likely because there was no profit in the information on the padd. “I’m making the game more interesting.”

 

“Uh, game?” Rom tilted his head.

 

“Yes, Rom, the game.” Julian walked back out of the bar, padd in hand. “The one where I seduce Garak first.”

 

Quark snorted and shook his head. “Humans.”

 

Julian smiled to himself.  _ Well, it certainly makes things more interesting. _

 

* * *

 

The chime to Julian’s quarters went off. He smiled, having been expecting his guest for the past hour. “Enter.”

 

Garak stepped into his quarters, a box under one arm. 

 

Julian watched him in the reflection off the padd screen, almost laughing at the way the Cardassian winced when he spotted the doctor on the couch. Whatever else he might lie about, his distaste in Julian’s wardrobe was genuine.

 

Garak sighed theatrically. “I see I was needed more than I thought.”

 

The doctor twisted around to look at the tailor, grinning in feigned surprise as he swung his legs to the floor. “Garak! I was wondering when you’d be by.”

 

Garak shifted his box to hold it up with two hands, raising his eye ridges. “And yet you chose to wear  _ that _ . Paisley does not go with plaid, my dear.”

 

_ Ah, so that’s what this pattern is. _ He snorted as he jogged across the room, accepting the box. “They’re comfortable.”

 

“So are these, but this outfit doesn’t threaten to damage the eyes of anyone who happens to see it.”

 

Julian rolled his eyes - really, Garak had such a flair for the dramatic. It was ridiculous. The doctor set the box on aside on a table, then began a plan he had thought of earlier. “Well, if your eyes are undamaged enough, I could actually use your help with something.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Julian nodded, getting the padd he’d left on the couch. “I’ve been trying to learn Kardasi in my spare time.” A small lie, he had managed to learn the language in a few weeks after arriving on the station. “Most of the medical data on Cardassians is stll unranslated, and should a medical emerency arise…” The truth - that had been why he’d learned the language, after all.

 

Garak nodded, smiling his typical benign smile. “A wise precaution - though I do believe those files were left untranslated on purpose. We do so love our privacy.”

 

“Believe me, I’ve noticed.” Now, here was the tricky part. Julian supressed a shiver in anticipation as he stepped next to the tailor, nearly but not quite pressing into his side. He held the padd in front of them as a pretext, but his focus was on the Cardassian. He pointed to a line at random, not particularly concerned with what he supposedly couldn’t translate. “See this? I haven’t been able to make out the word - the context seems off, somehow. It’s probably just my weak grasp on the language…” There, that was sufficiently vague.

 

Garak was very still - too still to be relaxed as he looked at the padd. It was taking too long for him to reply, clear that it was taking him a moment to focus. There was a subtle hiss of inward breath a normal human wouldn’t have heard.

 

_ But you aren’t normal, are you? Otherwise, how would you have been able to spend a month tinkering with the cologne formula until you found the one Garak responded to the most favorably?  _

 

“Ah, I see the trouble you’re having. This scene is a double entendre -” The tailor paused, rereading the passage before turning his head slightly to look at the doctor. “Which you already know, considering you’ve read the translation.”

 

Julian chuckled. It had been hard work to find copies of the novels Garak gave him in Kardasi, but Quark was a rather resourceful person with the proper motivation. “I didn’t know it was a double entendre, though I suppose I should have guessed.” And he really should have, given the Cardassian tendancy towards subterfuge and misdirection. “I knew there had to be more to  _ The Never-Ending Sacrifice _ than you were letting on.”

 

Garak sighed. “So you tricked me into playing my hand by reading it in Kardasi and asking for my help. Very clever, my dear.”

 

Julian loved hearing the tailor call him that.  _ My dear. _ “I thought so.”

 

Julian watched Garak without moving, letting them be close enough that he could practically feel the other man. He watched the way Garak’s scales darkened along his neck ridges, the way he rocked infintismally forward - yes, this was it, this -  _ kiss me… _

 

And then Garak took a step back, smiling. “Well, I am glad to see I’ve been of some help.”

 

_ Tease _ . It physically pained Julian  _ not _ to grab the man and pull him into a kiss. He was convinced he could get the Cardassian to play his hand again, and he was determined to win this little game they played. 

 

So he nodded and looked away for a moment. “Of course. Thank you for bringing the outfit - and for making it for me.”

 

“Think nothing of it, doctor. I’m always happy to be of service.” 

 

_ Was he changing his endearment on purpose? Playing at distance? _ “You can call me by my first name, you know. We  _ have _ known each other for over three years.” Julian went back to the couch.  _ Well, you’re not the only one who can tease. _

 

Garak smiled and inclinded his head. “Think of it a a term of endearment.”

 

_ As if you don’t use another already. _ Actually, that gave Julian an idea. “Should I call you my dear tailor, then?” 

 

Garak chuckled, but it was clearly forced. “If you wish. I  _ am _ a tailor, after all.” 

 

_ And dear to me. _ The doctor nodded. “Yes, plain, simple Garak the tailor.”

 

The tailor in question held ou his arms and smiled at the old deception. “Exactly.”

 

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow at the party then, my dear tailor?” 

 

For just a moment - one very small momen Julian would have missed had he not been looking for it - Garak’s smile turned soft and genuine. Then it was back to it’s usual deliberate civility. “Someone has to ensure you wear the right outfit.”

 

Julian laughed, more at the small victory in affecting Garak than the jibe. “I suppose they do. Good night, Garak.”

 

“Good night… Julian.”

 

The doctor had to fight the stupidly large grin the simple use of his name provoked, forcing back to a regular smile. He nodded to Garak one more time, turning away and pretending to read.

 

Once he heard the doors to his quarters close, he let the grin break free in full force. 

 

* * *

 

Julian picked up two glasses - one he had asked Quark to fill with kanar. The party was winding down, and Garak was observing from a corner of the room. He had a slight smile - not his usual front, more just quiet amusement. The doctor crossed the room to meet him.

 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Julian held out the glass of kanar.

 

Garak accepted. “Thank you, my dear. I must admit, despite my misgivings at attending, I have found the evening to be rather enjoyable.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m also glad to see the others being a bit more accepting - it’s about damn time.” Julian took a drink from his own glass - Bajoran spring wine. Only natural, given the circumstances, though sometimes he wanted something a little less sweet, with more bite - rather like his preference in potential romantic partners.

 

Garak shook his head. “Well, they haven’t had the benefit of sharing my company at least once a week for nearly three years.”

 

Julian smiled, some pride warming his chest that Garak had chosen to have lunch with him all these years. “True, true - you do have a certain amount of charm, though, my dear tailor. You can’t deny that.”

 

“You flatter me, doctor. I am merely an old man who runs a tailor shop.” Garak shook his head, an ingenuine smile gracing his features.

 

“You’re not that old, Garak.”   _ Besides, you only say that to get people to dismiss you. And I am far from dismissing you. _

 

The tailor arched a brow. “Oh? And what has you convinced of that?”

 

Julian made a show of examining Garak’s face. Then he gently gestured with his index finger, barely resisting the urge to actually touch the scaled ridges. “The ridges at your ears - from what I’ve gathered, Cardassian’s consider their softening as a sign of advanced age. A far as I can tell from our past encounters, yours are quite firm.”

 

“I didn’t know you were paying such close attention, doctor.”

 

Julian smirked, taking another drink. He had gotten those scales to darken again, just by proximity. “I always pay attention to you, Garak - otherwise, I’d miss half the clues.”

 

“Clues, doctor?” Garak tried his own drink. His eye ridegs rose slightly in surprise - he had probably been expecting spring wine as well.

 

Another point in the doctor’s favor. “Of what you really mean when you’re saying something completely different.”

 

Garak smiled. “Ah, my dear doctor. Are you still under the impression that I am a spy?”

 

Julian shook his head. “After everything, are you still going to deny you were ever a spy? You can’t honestly expect me to believe you were always a tailor.”

 

“Of course not, doctor - before this, I was a gardener.”

 

Julian almost laughed in surprise. “Well, in that case, you and Keiko should talk more often - she is a botanist, after all.”

 

“So I’ve heard. I don’t think Chief O’Brien would appreciate that, however.” Garak raised his eye ridges.

 

Julian frowned, beginning to sense he’d been missing something. “Chief O’Brien doesn’t control Keiko.”

 

“No, but his opinion would certainly count for something.”

 

“Not really. Just because they’re close doesn’t mean that Keiko isn’t an adult capable of forming her own opinions about people. She can like or dislike whoever she wants.” Julian downed the rest of his drink.  _ Damn the man and his paranoia. Why couldn’t he just accept that people like him? That  _ I _ like him? _

 

Garak narrowed his eyes. “Surely, as a friend, you yourself have a great deal of respect for the chief and his opinions.”

 

Julian felt something click. Did Garak  _ not _ …? “Most of them. He can be a little harsh at times, though he usually means well.” He took a step closer to the Cardassian, bringing them scant inches apart. “Besides, I’m also an adult capable of forming my own opinions - which you should be well aware of, my dear tailor.”

 

“Certainly, my dear doctor - I am well aware of your various…  _ opinions _ .” Garak was watching him, his breath slow and steady - too even to be unconcious. “I believe I could surmise your thoughts on a great many subjects.”

 

“Are you sure?” Julianmoved closer, looking for the tiniest indication that this was still a game. “Sometimes, I think you are deliberately obtuse just to provoke a reaction out of me.”

 

Garak’s smile had faded, but he didn’t move back. “Anything is possible, I suppose. Though I’m not sure how such methods would be particularly beneficial to better understanding your opinions, doctor.”

 

Julian could feel his brows furrowing.  _ No witty reparte? No clever jibe? Not even a little flirting?  _ “To get me to reveal my hand, of course - to act like you know more than you do in order to make me want to prove I’m as smart as you are.”

 

“I can see the appeal to such a technique, surely.” Then Garak did take a small step back, putting an enigmatic smile back in place. “But, as I’ve told you, I’m only a simple tailor.”

 

Julian’s eyes searched the Cardassian’s. There was no calculating amusement, no teaing glint. The tailor’s scales were still darkened, and he was still focusing on his breath.  _ He really doesn’t know.  _ “You really don’t know.”

 

Garak’s smile faltered. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, doctor.”

 

Julian grinned, then started laughing. He took a step back and looked away.  _ All this time I thought he was teasing me, and it turns out he doesn’t even seem to know I like him.  _ It was perfectly ridiculous and ridiculously perfect. He turned back, shaking his head in amazement.  “Damn. Now I’m going to lose my bet.” 

 

Garak tilted his head, mouth opening to ask a question.

 

Julian didn’t let him - he cupped the Cardassian’s jaw in his hands and leaned in to kiss him. 

 

Garak’s lips were dry, but soft - like well-worn leather. Julian loved the feeling instantly. He drew the simple kiss out for a few moments, enjoying the moment. He should have done his ages ago, instead of waiting around for Garak to make the first move.  _ Perfectly ridiculous indeed. _

 

The doctor pulled back. He looked at Garak, trying to gauge his reaction.

 

The tailor stood with his eyes closed, not moving. Julian wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

 

“Garak?”

 

Garak opened his eyes, blinking slowly. He regarded Julian with a sort of hazy look. But then his eyes cleared. “If you wanted to try the kanar, my dear Julian, all you had to do was ask.”

 

Julian snorted, then laughed and gently pressed their foreheads together.  _ This man is utterly ridiculous.  _ “I can’t decide if you’re amazing or insufferable.”

 

Garak’s eyes widened for a moment, and he smiled. “Perhaps both.”

 

Julian snorted again, remembering a similar conversation. Then he remembered something else - they were in public. “Maybe we should talk about it some more… privately.” The doctor looked across the room, where the rest of the party was watching them.

 

Garak looked as well, then immediately looked away.

 

Thier friends - well, Julian’s friends, in any case - all jumped into looking like they hadn’t been caught staring. It didn’t take enhanced senes to know they weren’t fooling anyone, but just then the doctor couldn;t bring himself to care. 

 

“I believe I must agree with you, my dear.”

 

Julian nodded. He knew that Garak was a private person. He let his hand drop down to slip inside one of the Cardassian’s. He turned to call across the room. “Thank you for having us, Kira, but I think Garak and I will be leaving now - happy birthday.”

 

Kira turned to look in their direction uncomfortably. “Thank you for coming.”

 

Jadzia grinned at the pair. “Have a good night.”

 

Julian smirked, looking back at Garak. “I intend to.”

 

Garak frowned, but seemed more embarrassed than affronted. “Julian, please - have some decorum.”

 

The doctor chuckled, bringing Garak’s hand up to place a light kiss on his knuckles. There were small scales there, giving them a pebbled texture. “What can I say, my dear tailor - you bring out the worst in me.”

 

Garak’s scales darkened slightly more - something the doctor would have missed without his enhancements.  

 

Julian grinned at the effect he could have on the tailor. He started to lead the way out of the room, but paused to look back one more time. “And… sorry about the bet, Quark. I just couldn’t stop myself.”

 

“Well, next time you decide to bet against yourself, remind me not to let you.” The Ferengi huffed, shaking his head.

 

Garak looked between the two with eye ridges furrowed. 

 

Julian pulled him out of the room before he had time to ask. There would be time later for that. 

 

After, hopefully, more kisses.


End file.
